


Dance of the Heart

by LittleMissOddball, LittleMissOddballl (LittleMissOddball)



Series: Spamano Song Series [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, the fanfic speaks for itself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-05-12 19:45:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5678383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissOddball/pseuds/LittleMissOddball, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissOddball/pseuds/LittleMissOddballl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lovi lives alone and away from his family to learn to live a life of his own. Or at least that's what he repeats to himself everyday was he wakes up alone in his one-man bedroom in an apartment somewhere in Rome. One night after coming home beat from work and the November cold, he comes across a mysterious figure strumming away at his guitar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dance of the Heart Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is another of my song fanfics. This time, I bring you Un Baile del Corazon or Dance of the Heart by Stephen Bishop, played by Spain x Romano. I've always said we interpret songs in some different ways and when I heard te lyrics of the song, I felt great pain. Which brought me to write about my muses once again. So, while readng do have Un Baile del Corazon playing on the radio. I suggest a good glass of wine, some cheese and biscuits, low lights preferably a candelabra and the music on a low and soothing volume. Enjoy! Love lots!  
> -Little Miss Oddballl

_Night. . .falling from heaven above the sound of a guitar._

_Drifting through the moonlit sky_

_Your face Lovely as the rose in your hair_

_The passion in your eyes_

_Fills me with the songs of love._

 

Monday night. The cold crisp of the Italian November bit his skin underneath the Armani down jacket and striped cotton scarf. While walking home from the station, Lovino cursed to himself as he thought of his warm gloves sitting on his cubicle desk. He had been in too much of a hurry to rearrange his desk and somehow must have dropped them while he furiously scanned his messy workplace for his bag. He wheezed from the cold and quickly rubbed his hands together to gather at least a little heat then put them in the side pockets of his jacket.

He turns right leading to a narrow road lined with tall buildings, most of them apartments with a few cars parked in front of them and a few small-scale restaurants. He waves to a few women with regard to his flirtatious nature and turns another right entering another narrow space and located his tall, orange 4-storey apartment. No one was walking around much save for an old man and his dog standing by a car. In the middle of all the cold, there was much warmth from inside the buildings from the fireplace. Lovino walked faster, desperate as well for the warmth of his own fireplace. He stopped at the main door and started searching for his keys. He finds them in the pocket of his faded jeans then he inserts the key in the keyhole. The knob turns and he starts to step in when a soft sound of strumming was heard from above him.

Lovino’s eyes catches a figure sitting out in the open balcony on what seemed to be a wooden rocking chair in just a white over-sized t-shirt, brown khaki pants and slippers. He was singing a soft melody that fit well with the strumming on his guitar Int the cold, dark moonlit night, Lovino felt a sense of warmth and safety, yet a sense of sadness and longing. He lingered for a bit longer outside his apartment, building, silently listening to the stranger’s rich voice and wistful playing until the cold once again bites on his fingertips, numbing them, telling him to save the listening for some other time.

Once inside his apartment room, Lovino could still hear the music playing as if it were closer than he thought. Leaning outside his window, he sees the same figure about two windows from his own. The playing stopped as the head swivels to his direction. Lovino quickly withdraws from the window, his heart beating faster than it normally did. He set up the fireplace after a hot bath and sits on his reclining chair with a book and hot choco in hand, while he listened more to the soulful music that cold November night.

 

_So tell me when will I know_

_How can you tell When love is near_

_Oh I love you so._

_Un baile del corazon_

 

Saturdays are always Lovino’s leisure times wherein he could forget work for a while or at least for half a day before he goes back to work at 11 which is simply preparing for Sunday chores. Today’s Saturday starts off the usual. He wakes up at 6 half naked at the top. He would locate his robe then stride towards the kitchen and would brew for himself hot coffee then he whips up his usual Italian breakfast: Lasagna and garlic bread with a side of tomatoes. While that’s cooking, the doorbell would sound and he would open it to greet Ms. Hedevary, his landlord’s wife, a good morning and retrieve from her the usual morning newspaper. He sets the paper down on the circular dining table and along with his coffee and reads while basking himself in the little sunshine that passes through his window. The oven rings telling Lovino his baked lasagna is done and ready to invade his taste buds. He quickly retrieves the lasagna bowl and a few utensils and resumes reading the paper while he munched on glorious Italian food. Of course, it’s not as good as the lasagna is brother used to make but he was pretty much satisfied that it tasted nearly as good.

Yes. Today was as good as any Saturday.

Then his thoughts fly to that cold Monday night.

He hasn’t heard him play for a while. It’s been two weeks since then and he’s only ever heard him, aside from that Monday, was Thursday of that same week but only briefly when the gurgling sound of French resounded from the other building, halting his playing. Just when Lovino was starting to feel it. Other than that, it seemed as if he had ceased to play altogether. Not that he was disappointed or anything. It just that maybe someone else was also listening and would like to hear something that sweet yet lonesome. Maybe someone else felt loved and not alone whenever he played that tune, even if it was the same tune over and over again. And maybe someone else would be knocking on his door.

Wait what?

Lovino returns to the present and hears the shuffling of feet from outside his door. He glanced at his wall clock which hung over the wooden drawers. It read 8:00 am. Strange. Not a lot of people woke up at 8:00 let alone be out of their rooms and scurrying like rats. The sounds ceased and there was loud thumping at his door. The day just got stranger and stranger. He put down his newspaper and cautiously peaked through the peephole and what he saw surprised him

_It’s that guitar guy. What’s he doing here?_

“Hello? Is anyone here? Please help me! He’s after me! He’s after all of us!” the voice from the other side of the door sounded a lot more different from when he was the guitarist at night. It had a cheerful edge but at them moment, it had that sort of panicked and urgent side. It made Lovino think twice of letting him in. What if he was running from someone? Did he do something wrong? Is he a fugitive? Danger must be his name, or something and the last thing he needed was his face with a mask among a clout of reports on the tabloid.

_Then again, aren’t I also running away?_

Before he could think twice, his hand moved on his own and unlocked his door sending a sweating man running inside and hiding someplace near the kitchen. The scurrying of the feet grew louder and Lovino knew better than to stand by the door and watch as he faces his doom. He shuts it quick and turns to leave only to be stopped by more knocking on the door, a small squeal sounding from the end of the room. Lovino scanned for anything he could use as a weapon and picks up a shoe. Raising it up, Lovino opens up and prepares to strike when a casserole plate was shoved in his face and in front of his stood a panting and sweating blond with thick eyebrows above his blue aquamarine eyes.

“I-Is the Spanish wanker inside?” he said with a deep and strong British accent.

_This is what he’s hiding from?_ He stared at the abomination spread on the casserole plate and choked back a laugh.

“Excuse me? Who?”

“The Spanish wanker! The tall tan man from Spain, Antonio, the one with green eyes and smells like he just got out of the barn! I saw him run in this direction then disappeared. Is he inside?”

“What makes you think he’s in here, Eyebrows?”

“What!?” “

And if he is running from you, I think I know why.” He let his eyes move towards the casserole plate, provoking the Briton. Red immediately spread on the gentleman’s cheeks and as he began thrashing about, a tall flashy man with long blond wavy hair tied to a ponytail. He spoke to Lovino with a heavily accented French English. He apologized and moved the Briton away, whom Lovino found out to be the famous Arthur Kirkland, the horror cook of the apartment who lived with his French boyfriend, Francis Bonnefoy, the flashy man with long hair.

Arthur consents to leaving after being promised by Francis he’d eat the leftovers and that they’ll get him some other time. May he find happiness in Heaven. Out of sight, out of mind, Lovino shuts the door and turns only to be tackled to the ground by a heavy object, a body to be exact and is drowned in hugs and words of thanks and simultaneous shouts to his ear of ‘My saviour!’ ‘My hero!’ Flustered and unsure of what to do, Lovino pushes him off a bit too roughly.

“What the fuck’s your problem, idiot! Don’t just pin people to the ground, especially not when you’re intruding in their privacy just to escape their own problems! And you’re a fucking man, running from ruined food which definitely I think is a nuclear weapon.” Lovinos paused in need of air and the Spanish man kneeling in front of him just gaping. Suddenly, he let out a small laugh which eventually became a guffaw. Even his small chuckles were like music. Lovino sort of wondered if all Spanish had that good a voice, even their laugh sounds angelic. At the thought, Lovino blushed a million shades of red.

“Wh-what’s so funny, bastard!? Don’t just laugh at shit and leave people out of it. It’s fucking rude!”

“Oh. _Lo siento, mi amigo!_ It’s just that you read exactly what was on my mind the first day I met that British gentleman. He’s very nice, you know? Just not a very good cook though. His boyfriend, Francis? He could probably turn rocks into gourmet!”

“Okay one. I did not need to know that. Two, I think my apartment has served as your hiding place for far too long. I think it’s time for you to go.” Lovino stood but a hand took him by the arm and pulled him back down on the floor, sending him crashing.

“What the fuck, bastard! Is it a hobby to pull people down with you!?”

“I’m Antonio! Toni’s good. I’m Spanish, by the way. Hey, did you realize that almost everyone in this apartment is from a different country? Like this one on third floor, he’s from---”

“Would you shut up for a second?” “Oh. Okay. Have I been talking too much? People always tell me I talk too much. I have this friend. His name’s Gilbert. He says he---”

Lovino snaps and slaps him on the head, hopefully shutting him up. “That hurts...um...I didn’t quite get your name right, neighbor.”

“That’s because you talk too much.”

“Oh. Well, what’s your name? And country if applicable.” He chuckles a bit at his pun. Lovino snorts.

“I’m Lovino. Lovino Vargas. I’m Italian.”

“OH! An Italian! That makes us _compadres_ then!” He says with a cheerful tone and slings an arm over Lovino’s shoulder. Lovino’s eyes darken and shrugs him off then stands up.He walks to the kitchen while Antonio’s eyes follow him.

“We are not friends. I don’t need the friendship. Now if you think you’re safe to go out, then just go. Or rather. Leave now and go hide in the basement or something.” He doesn’t turn around, fully focused on heating his lasagna that he doesn’t realize his unwanted guests was standing behind him, watching curiously as he moved the pan around and around.

“I see Francis has a rival!”

Lovino jumps, dropping the pan by mistake onto the stove. “AH! I said stop it! Great.” the stove goes off and he swivels 180 degrees to be greeted by a Spanish tanned man sitting comfortably on his only dining table seat, holding up a fork and apparenly, he had helped himself to some of the plates.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting ready for food?”

“No you’re not. Get out.”

“Oh come on, Lovi!”

“No! And don’t call me Lovi!"

“But it’s cute!”

“Yeah well I’m a man. Don’t call me cute.”

“You’re cute because you’re cute!”

“No!” “So I shouldn’t call you cute?”

“Yes!”

“I should stop?”

“Yes! “

"Are you going to give me lasagna?”

“Yes!”

“Hurray!”

“Wait, what!? You tricked me!”

“Did I?”

“Shut up. Just. You know what? Go ahead. I’m full anyway.”

“Oh Lovi, don’t be like that. Join me for breakfast. I interrupted you during breakfast didn’t I?” Lovino stopped. Something in his voice made him turn around and actually reconsider.

“Please?”

“No.”

“I’ll even throw in a few tomatoes I grew myself as a thank you for the food AND for hiding me from that nuclear weapon.” Lovino chuckles a bit and strides toward the table, taking the seat the Spanish offers him and munches on his leftover lasagna.

“Don’t call me ‘Lovi’ either, tomato bastard. It’s Lovino.” shrugging him off.

“’Tomato Bastard? That’s not something I hear everyday. “

“I call you whatever you want, as you barged in my room and then partake of my blessings Don’t you think it’s a fair trade, tomato bastard?” he said smirking.

_“Touche.”_

_“Bon apetito.”_


	2. Dance of the Heart Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm back with chapter 2~ A little late putting it up because I'm still trying to settle in in my dorm. Classes started today as well. Thank you again to fiogamer for leaving me an awesome comment for chapter 1. It became an inspiration~ Hihi. Anywaaaays~ Here is chapter 2. I'm planning to make this the Hetalia: World Apartment Series just cuz the one year gap is quite a long while so if you'd like me to write any of your fave pairings, then just comment below. Kudos and critques are very much welcome, darlings. 
> 
> Hetalia does not belong to me by the way~ All the love to Hima-papa ^^  
> Love lots~ LittleMissOddball

_Your smile._   
_A kiss from the morning sun_   
_Like whispers in the breeze_   
_Words of love and mystery_

After that, they never talked again and Lovino was back to living his solitary life and going on with his life. 

Or at least that’s what our protagonist had hoped. 

Right after that incident, Lovino woke up one day to the sound sizzling in the kitchen and the smell of tortillas filled the room. Concerned his kitchen had turned into a giant mess with clutter all over his beautiful floor, he flops out of bed and bounds for the kitchen where he sees and tanned man in a white apron and humming a lively tune whilst playing with condiments and a pan. Lovino gapes at the scene for a while before fully registering the tomato bastard in HIS kitchen. 

“Bastard, what are you doing in my room!? At 6 in the morning!?” he yanked the spatula from the other’s hand, surprising Antonio and looking his way. 

“Good morning, Lovi! I made you breakfast!” he grinned then plopped a piece of tortilla into the Italian’s mouth, taking him by surprise. Red, he downs the crunchy and flavourful(less) tortilla.   
“GET. OUT. What?”

Antonio turns to switch the stove then pushing Lovino a bit to the side, grabs utensils and puts them on the table. 

“Breakfast.” he said with a gleam in his eyes. “You’re going to need it if you’ll be doing anything productive today, _si?_ ”

Lovino stared at the table as if he had never seen it that beautiful. The utensils have been arranged in a Russian Style table arrangement with the exception of wine glasses and goblets and the napkin folded in a bird’s wing. There was a white cloth draped all over the round table. The utensils used were of cheap quality but for some reason, they gleamed with the rays of the sun hitting them. In the midst of this, Antonio stood by the side, still wearing his waist apron and holding a makeshift tray carrying steaming hot chocolate, bread, biscuits and pineapple juice: Italian breakfast? You gotta admit, the boy knew the twists behind the restaurant. Did he used to work in a restaurant he wonders?

Despite the fact that the stupid tomato bastard completely barged in without his knowing. 

Lovino smirked. “Nice try. What do you want from me now?”  
“I just wanted to make you breakfast.”  
“Uh-huh.”  
“Oh how silly of me.” Antonio gasped then put down the tray and ‘escorted’ Lovino to his seat, pulling his seat back for him. He then placed the food in front of the still amused and completely surprised Italian. “A man must act like a gentleman at all times and provide the best for his muse...”  
“I am NOT your muse.”  
“...therefore, I offer unto you, my MUSE, a big feast of tomatoes!”  
 _“Que?”_  
“Everything on the menu is tomato! Except for the juice. That’s pineapple. Remember I told you, I’d give you tomatoes in exchange for everything that happened yesterday.”  
“I expected a single tomato. Not the whole package.”   
“Please just take it. “ 

Antonio simply smiled. Lovino looked away. He couldn’t be swayed now, no matter how friendly or how kindly Antonio was treating him so far. After all, he could probably doing this as a neighbor. 

Lovino sighed and took the knife and started working his way through the bread. “I’ll let this one pass by.”  
“Yay~!”

From then on, it wasn’t just breakfast. 

For something beyond him, Lovino had become accustomed to expecting breakfast made by the Spaniard. If not in bed, it’d be another one of Antonio’s flashy breakfasts; with table arrangements that did not match what he had made. Often times, there would be no breakfast and Lovino would have to cook for himself, but while he’d be dining, a knock on the door now either meant, the morning paper or Antonio leaving tomato juice at his doorstep. Of course the Spaniard would’ve fled by the time Lovino had opened the door, and the unpredictability made it difficult to catch him in the act so Lovino would take the treat, finish off his morning routing then bound to the other’s room where he would be carrying a long speech of not leaving things at his doorstep. However, the preparations to mercilessly scold him for such would vanish the moment he would be enveloped in the fresh scent of newly tilled soil and vegetables as he is wrapped in the bed haired Spanish’s arms. Good mornings and cussing, rejecting Antonio’s pleas to come and sleep with him for a little bit then Lovino leaves for work. At work, his colleagues would notice Antonio’s scent on Lovino and would ask how he smelled like a mix of fresh barn and nature. How could Lovino possibly say it was from a warm hugging tomato bastard? For the sake of it, he had a perfume bottle with water then tell them he’d gotten his hands on decent parfum. If they bought it then good but for how long though. 

The road back to the apartment was the same as always Same train station, bus stop. Same cobblestone roads and busy restaurants and cars parked at their same space the day before. He’d be walking alone of course. It was still cold and this he had to endure for he had left his car back in his family home. For the next two months, nothing much changed in his scenery until a cheery voice from above would call out to him gently. 

 

“Lovi!” Antonio would shout from his balcony stopping Lovino just before he’d inserted the key in the keyhole. Lovino would look up to Antonio waving and smiling in his usual white V-neck shirt and brown khaki shorts, his figure against the moonlit starry sky He’s holding a guitar in one hand as he greets the newly arrived Lovino.”Welcome home!”

“Shut up, bastard. People are asleep.” then he’d enter the apartment building, climb up the flights of stairs all the while silently listening to the echo of Antonio strumming away at his guitar while trying to calm down the fast beating of his heart. 

It was definitely a good change. At the thought, he froze.

_Stop it,_ he mumbled to himself as he arrived at the door his apartment room. _You can’t possibly be letting him in, are you Vargas? Trust is not something you were blessed with the moment you were born and friendship is a luxury you will never attain, no matter how much you dream. You break, not mend remember?_

But was it too late?  
Lovino shakes off the thought. Maybe this was temporary. If he talked it over with Antonio, he could probably get his act back together. Just a little talk to end whatever feelings could brewing in him, or hopefully not in both of them. But not now. Antonio might not want to hear any of it, and it’s not something to talk about before Christmas starts. But that was fine for Lovino. 

After all, they have all the time in world. 

_Fire burning deep into my soul._   
_With your body close to mine._   
_I promise you the moon and stars_   
_So tell me what should I say_   
_How can I show you all that I feel?_

A year of tranquil living and lively neighbors with a side of tomato dishes and running from nuclear kitchen bombs ensued. And before they all knew it, it was that Christmas time of the year again. Last year’s Christmas festivities went off without a hitch. And just like last year a party was held, as was the tradition, a hot pot party. A few of the borders were not present but left their own dishes before leaving. Francis and Arthur along with their sons, Alfred and Matthew went off for a vacation to London. Ivan, the Russian who lived in one of the rooms at the top floor also went to visit his family in the Motherland. Those that remained were Roderich and Elizaveta, the landlord and his wife. Gilbert, surprisingly stayed in the apartment. According to him, his little brother, Ludwig was off being all lovey-dovey with his lover back in Germany. Supposedly staying was an act of sulking. A few other people whom Lovino was not acquainted with, including a pair of siblings from Switzerland, third floor occupants, a Polish male who was definitely not male, according to Lovino who also lived on the third floor and a silent Japanese named Kiku who lived right next to Lovino. To the surprise of everyone who came was Lovino, who had not usually joined in the festivities, did so too this time around. But only because he was dragged along by the Tomato Bastard. 

Right before taking a warm bath with hot choco in hand.

It looked like a comical skit to anyone who had witnessed it. The _idiota_ simply barged in on Lovino (no surprise there) as he was taking off his boxer shorts, shouting gleefully that there was a party downstairs. Before Lovino could even refute, he was yanked by the arm, still half naked and dragged downstairs. Antonio was scolded right after he realized that Lovino was still in his boxer shorts and offered to accompany Lovino back upstairs. The latter knew he need not accompanying, but he could not say no when it was the former who was offering.

Curse his inability to say no to the bastard. 

So for the first time in the long while he had been living there, he had attended something with people he lived with under the same roof but never found the time nor the courage to talk to. 

_It’s not so bad being with these people,_ he thought. He turned to his side as he watched the Spanish laugh himself out to a gag by Felix, the Polish. _I guess it’s all thanks to him, huh._

“Lovi?”  
Lovino jerks. “W-What?”  
“You’ve been looking at me for a while now. Is there something on my face?”

_Shit, he noticed!_

“It’s nothing. You just happened to have bed hair.”   
“Oh, thank you Lovi~!” he grinned at the other then proceeded to fixing his ‘bed hair’ then mumbling, “I don’t remember going to sleep though.”

“Don’t be so happy over something so little, idiot.” Lovino grunts and goes back to his drink, looking away to hide the obvious the red spreading through his face.  
After the drinks and the exchange of gifts, the group decided to call it a night and moved to disperse and save their energy for the upcoming New Year’s Party. Lovino too starts to leave, slung over his shoulder the disposed Antonio who was obviously too drunk to even walk. 

_The bastard is heavy. No wonder he could pull me down easily._

His load suddenly became a lot lighter when the opposite unsupported side suddenly raised itself up. Eyeing Antonio’s other shoulder, he sees sweet Ms. Hedevary supporting him. 

“Ms. Hedevary!”  
“Oh, call me ‘Liz’ darling. We’re all friends here. I see you need help.”  
 _“Grazie, bella.”_ Lovino gives a small smile in gratitude which was generously returned. 

 

The two carry the Spanish to his room and tucks him to bed then leaves quickly. 

“Thank you again, Liz. I never thought he could be that heavy.”  
“With all those tomatoes? I doubt he could be anything but heavy”  
“I guess so. Would you like to come over for a little tea? I believe you only had water to drink?”  
“Oh, that would be wonderful, thank you Lovino.”

They stride towards Lovino’s room. While Liz got comfortable, Lovino got the stove starting and the tea boiling. Once the water had boiled, Lovino poured generous amounts in their teacups then joined Liz who was standing by the couch, eyeing the very few photographs Lovino owned. 

“My family back in countryside Italy.” Lovino started after putting down the tray filled with plates of biscuits and their cups of tea. “The one standing beside me is my twin, _mi fratellino_ , Feliciano.”  
“You two look so alike. You even have the same curl.” she giggled at the black and white photograph of Lovino and his brother standing in by a hedge, Lovino looking away from the camera wearing a wide blush and his brother with the biggest grin that reach from the edge of his lips to the lower tip of his ear.

“Oh, thank you. It smells heavenly.” she says as she reaches for a cup.

“And we’re both flirtatious. I figured it runs in the Vargas family, if there is such a thing. It’s chamomile. I hope you don’t mind.”  
Liz takes a sip and sighs. “It’s delightful.” she takes another sip then turns to Lovino, to whom she gives a small smile 

“Thank you, Lovino. This was such a wonderful Christmas. “  
Lovino raises a brow in question. “You think so?”  
“Well for one, the building has never been this rowdy. Suddenly seeing our boarders interacting and having fun with each other. Having Christmas parties, birthday celebrations and many more, I just feel blessed this time around.”

“There have been a lot of parties even before this one. “  
“But not as special as this one. For once, it felt like a genuine Christmas. A shame it is that many of you were unable to come this Christmas time, but I look forward to more celebrations like tonight. I hope I see you in all those celebrations Lovino.”  
“I’ll see what I can do. I don’t want to have to run from the abomination that is Eyebrows’ cooking.” he snorts. 

Liz was suddenly quiet as she tapped on her teacup, a serious face washed over her.   
“Liz?”  
“You’ve become friends with Antonio too. I’m glad for that.”  
“Hah. More like I’m his babysitter. That kid can’t even stand two seconds without bumping into things.”  
“Good. Please continue to be friends with him. He might need you more than ever in the future, and I believe you are the only who will ever be qualified enough to be his shoulder.” 

Lovino knew better than to say anything. How could he ever be the support anyone needed when he couldn’t even support himself? But Liz looked at him with so much conviction and confidence that he decided to give a small nod in understanding. Liz once again smiles. She then puts down her half empty teacup and stands to leave. Lovino follows suit, but Liz tells him to remain seated and she will see herself out. 

She bids him once more a good night then closes the door behind her leaving Lovino to the deafening silence.


	3. Dance of the Heart Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMIGASH I AM BACK. About time too. ;__; Shifting to a new degree can be tiring and the consequences drain you mentally. But then it can't be all work and no play SO! I bring you the third part of my chaptered Spamano fanfic <3 <3 So kudos and comment! I love a good comment and sound structural critiques :) Love lots~ <3  
> -Chien  
> Hetalia is unfortunately not mine but all to the mighty Hima-papa  
> PS.  
> Herman is the name I used for big brother Portugal. Herman is the name of the cousin I'm very close to since he acts like he big brother I never had. He is all the way in Portugal since he's working there. AND! He's also the one who introduced me to Hetalia. In other words, he dragged me down to hell with him. HAHA Just kidding. So anyway I'm using this as a gift since his birthday's comin' up soon~

_{One week to New Year’s}_

_I’m having a serious case of deja vu here_ , Lovino thought as he blankly stared at Antonio who was quivering in one corner of his apartment room. His attention turns to the loud tapping of the door and loud British curses of “gourmet cowardly lot!” Lovino simply sighs and opens the door to the unsurprisingly sweaty Briton.

“I know he’s in there.”

“He is.”

“Bring him out, then.”

He looks inside for a bit as if pretending to talk to Antonio who had fled the kitchen for the bathroom. He then turns back to the Brit. “He says he doesn’t want to die yet. Not in the hands of your cooking at least.” he teased complete with a giant smirk through his face.

“What did you say, wanker!? I’ll have you know I am Arthur Kirkland of the Great British Empire! You should be honored I bring you my very own cooking!”

“Yeah. And I’m Lovino Vargas, the Italian who lives in  221B Baker Street.”

“Benedict Cumberbatch is a hot down to earth Briton. He most certainly is not of the likes of you, you bloody impostor!” Loud footsteps came from the end of the hallway. Towards them, blond hair gracefully whisked in the air as Francis ran towards their direction with Roderich falling behind.

“Really, _mon amour,_ you must stop this game of hide and seek with me. It’s getting tiring trying to get out of bed with my little son dangling between my legs while you make a mess in the kitchen then just run off like that.” Francis said between breaths. _“Ah bonjour, mon cher._ I am truly sorry for this early morning ruckus. I did not expect _mon amour_ to have this sudden burst of...erm...inspiration. I will see to it that he gives a warning before knocking on anybody else’s doors.”

From behind Lovino, Antonio’s head popped out, all smiles to the French and the heavily panting landlord. His face twists into fright at the sight of the little (haha) Briton glaring at him while he held the casserole bowl in his hands. One second after, all hell breaks loose and before Lovino could even do anything, his whole room became a labyrinth of fallen pots, pans and overturned chairs and tables. He gaped at the horrific scene of the Spaniard and the Briton’s game of cat and mouse, Antonio grabbing on anything to swing to and Arthur, miraculously being given spider abilities to counter those.

More running and Lovino decided to leave the room and visit Liz’s room while the two settle their “differences”. He headed for the fourth floor. Upon climbing the stairs, he could hear sounds in the hallway distinctly female, and definitely Liz’s.

 _Perfect timing,_ he thought. He could ask the landlady to let him chill for a bit in the admin’s office. But who was she talking to? Her voice was all he heard so she was probably on the phone. He took a few more steps, stopping somewhat close to the top of the stairs and leaned back on the wall to wait until Liz finished her phone call. The call was taking longer than he expected and his feet were starting to feel sore from all the standing and he figured the phone call was going to last a lot longer when the tone of her voice suddenly rose.

Thinking he should just crash in Kiku’s room for a bit, he turned to leave when he heard Liz mention Antonio.

Could he have just been imagining it?

He crept a little closer to get a better hearing. “But Herman, why does it have to be him? He made it very clear that he wants nothing to do with his grandfather or the Ville. I intend to honor Tonio’s wishes and Roderich thinks so too.”

 _His grandfather?_ What’s with his grandfather?

“Herman. You can’t let him do something he doesn’t want to do. He will keep on running away and you will bring out money to find him and you find him and he’ll keep running away. Don’t you think it’s better to let him be rather than letting him carry the burden he feels to be the Carriedo blood?”

Carriedo? Is that his last name? What’s with Carriedo? Come to think of it, all he knew Antonio by was Antonio and, as the idiot would always insist, plain Toni. From the beginning, that was how Antonio had introduced himself, and Lovino had thought nothing of it before so he had not bothered to even ask. He'd known he was from Spain, but that country was a bit too big. He knew he likes tomatoes and plays the guitar, but know nothing of how he learned. He doesn't know even know what the Spanish does for a living. In other words, he was friends with yet a total stranger. 

But now it egged him: Who was Antonio?

“I get it. I’ll talk it over with Roderich...no...he has to know. He took up the responsibility for watching over him as his own had failed to do so.” another silence ensued. Lovino was only listening, but he could tell her voice was anxious, if anything concerned besides outraged. “I won’t take no for an answer, Herman. You know very well out of everyone in your family what your little brother is, and I am sure you are not in much agreement as you are claiming.”

A small beep followed by a sigh echoed through the corridor which told Lovino the call had just ended. He waited as the footsteps seemed to be getting farther and farther away until the slam of the door was all that was left and the sound of heavy breathing. He then bounded down the stairs to his floor and headed for Kiku’s room instead.

 

_{4 Days to New Year’s Eve}_

 

"Lovino, dear! Please pass the salt. Lovino?”

“Huh? What? Oh right, the salt. Uhmmm...”

“In your hand.” Lovino's cheeks redden as he handed her the salt shaker then returned to mincing. It’s four days to New Year’s Eve and Liz had decided to hold a party to celebrate it. They decided just like for Christmas to each bring their own dishes, which was what Lovino and Liz were just busying themselves with. They were whipping up something of a mix of Hungarian and Italian in the administration’s office, or as it was, Liz and Roderich’s home kitchen, as a joint effort on their part since. Lovino had offered the idea to Liz one afternoon during his precious and rare day-off. He had meant for it to be like a ‘thank you’ gesture after she and Roderich had so patiently dealt with him this whole time as well as to get his mind off things: about Toni, how frustrated he was at knowing only next to nothing about the Spanish and because he needed some excuse to get some air away from his “friend”. And since Roderich was sure to be busy drinking with Gilbert that night, fact at which Lovino nearly choked his own drink, Liz gleefully took him up on his offer.

“WHAT? YOU’RE NOT REALLY MARRIED?!”

“He never put the ring on. No one would try investing in an apartment where the landlord was bisexual, right? That’s society nowadays. And the circumstances were a little complicated, but that’s another story altogether.”

“If you put it that way...”

“Shall we get preparing for our dish?”

“Of course.”

Which brings us back to the present situation.

After a while of preparation and mincing and everything in between, Lovino’s mind began to wander off again, of course thinking about Antonio and his incompetence at making friends with him. He tried to whip up a cheerful conversation with Liz but it would always revert to talking about how annoying Antonio on one particular day. Each time he would start to speak his name, Lovino would go silent. He’d go back to cutting every once and a while he would look up to glance out the window of the fourth floor office which overlooked the garden of the compound where he saw some of the boarders getting some sun. On one side was Antonio with Francis and Gilbert laughing and talking. There would be a clenching pain so Lovino would go back to working. He’d wondered not once but more times than he could count why he was so affected. To be worried about something so petty was so unlike him. So what if he knew little about Antonio? It’s not as if they were l-l-lo...PARTNERS. They weren’t partners...or anything like that.

So. Why?

“Lovino! Lovino!”

Lovino snapped out of his reverie and his eyes catch on a burning meat on a pan. “CAZZO!” he cursed as he tried to quickly put out the flames by grabbing the nearest fire extinguisher. After the flame had gone, he threw the extinguisher to the floor. “Fuck! What is wrong with me today!?”

“Lovino, dear. You’ve been acting strange since you got here.”

“Look at this horrible excuse for Italian cuisine. I put shame to the Italian race.” he threw the pan and the burnt meat in the sink then slumped on the floor. “This is all his fault.” he muttered in voice audible only to him. He then quickly stood up, taking off his apron an placing it on the nearest flat surface.

“Lovino?! Where are you going?”

“Sorry Liz, I don’t feel so well.” he strode out the door, closing it with a bang. He headed downstairs, his face contorted in anger. He was glad not a lot of people were out of their rooms as they were too busy dealing with their own dishes. He was not noticing the heavenly smells coming from the small slits of the rooms he passed through. All he wanted was just to get back to his room. Along the other end of the hallway, Antonio was just going back to his room after playing a bit too much with the the young Alfred when he spotted Lovino walking towards him in a rather striding manner. His face lit up and raised his hand to give the Italian a wave but hesitated when he detected something other than the usual grouch of the younger male.

“Lovi?” Without stopping, if anything frowning, Lovino swept past the older male towards his room. Antonio’s eyes followed the Italian until he entered the room, still wondering what had happened to his Lovi when he hears the sounds of footsteps echoed from the other end of the hall.

“Hey Lizzie~”

“...Antonio.”

“What’s wrong, Eliza?” Lovino slept through the day until nighttime when it brought along the chilly cold of December. He blinked a few times to make sense of where he was and why it was cold. It took a few seconds for him to realize that his window had been opened and the fire burned out by the patches of snow that entered through the open window. Quickly he threw back the covers and proceeded to putting on the fire then closing the window.

 

_“For I love you so.”_

 

The sweet sound of a Spanish serenade sounded from outside which made Lovino stop and for a while forget the cold still creeping inside his bedroom, slowly putting out the fire. As if he was hypnotized, Lovino slowly moved his feet forward and out in the open, when the strong gush of cold wind stopped him in his tracks, simultaneously closing the window shutters, once again letting the dark envelop the Italian.

 

_“Un baile del corazon.”_

 

_Enough. You don’t know what you’re saying._

Lovino held his head in his hands and for the first time in a long time, cold tears fell from his eyes.


	4. Dance of the Heart Part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _MY LOVELIES! SUMMER IS UPON US! And luckily, so is the motivation to finish this recent chapter. I have three fics up for updating and I am enjoying having to shift from one line of thinking to another. So anywaaaay~ Here's the new chappy for my fannyfic~ I added in a little Toni POV in it so it's basically like a filler of some sort just to advance the story. Gimme kudos guys and drop a comment. It makes me happy if I have both sooooo. Lel. Love lots~  
>  -Chien_

{New Year’s Eve}  
  
   
Like any other year, the city was brightly decorated with tons of paraphernalia. Over the air hung the feeling of beginning and the end of something everyone would one day look back to and laugh at the days of folly. For others, it was the start of adulthood. Drinks are out, disco music blasting in speakers. Christmas lights still remained in the plaza and along with the sounds of clanking glasses and cheery laughs echoed the sounds of the church bells signaling the start of the first Eucharistic celebration of the year. Fireplaces were a lot warmer as family members gathered around it to hear of stories from the wise grandma from just across the street all while they sit in wait for the colorful flashes of chemicals to light up the sky. For the apartment, New Year meant the rest of the day were spent actively planning for the night of the celebration of the coming of the new year. Most of those that had left on Christmas for vacation had returned just to witness the spectacular display of fireworks which was to be released on the exact hour of 12 midnight from the city hall. It was an annual tradition those in the building for them to have a sort of party of their own while the rest of the city were out on the streets having their own disco.  
   
In the midst of this, Lovino sat by his room window, alone and just gazing at the stars above. From below his window, outside of the apartment building, he sees the cheery bunch from his apartment, laughing and lolly-gagging on jokes and having a good time. Lovino looked away and continued staring aimlessly toward the skies. Whether he’d admit it or not, he had been looking forward to tonight as it would be his first together with all of them not to mention he hadn’t been that alone as he was before. And at least for once, since that time, he would feel that he wasn’t genuinely alone. He would go down there if there was nothing to stop him, for among the group chattering outside was the tomato bastard being his usual bastardly sunshine shit self. He had neither the courage nor the mood to talk to him let alone make eye contact with him. He was frustrated at having the capacity to get mad over something so petty. Heck, it wasn’t even something to be mad about. His eyebrows scrunched to form a V-shape as the questions flow. Why was he really affected by the whole thing? Normally, you’d just shrug it off and wait for the other to open to you right? Why was it bothering him so much to the point that he actually broke his promise to Liz to go to this party? It was ruining all his plans to actually mingle with people, not that he really wanted to, but it was just that he made the same promise to Liz at some point to at least make some friends. He shouldn’t be up here sulking. He should be down there drinking the night away then waking up the next morning, naked and wasted by the side of the road along with the others who occupied the building. He stood up and strode toward his bedroom and grabbed the nearest trousers he could find and starting dressing in it. He combed his hair, made himself look attractive and took out from the fridge the meal he had made for himself to eat during the fireworks display. After making sure he had unplugged everything, he grabbed his keys and strode towards the door. Little did he know of the surprise that awaited him at the foot of his door.   
  
Toni’s POV  
  
Hi there~! It’s me, Toni! As of the moment, I’m with friends from the building I’m living in. I forgot the name of out apartment, but I still would like you to know something about it. First off, it’s here in Italy. And although I’m Spanish for some reason, I could understand what everyone was saying here. Plus they’re all nice and they make good pizza and spaghetti with lots and lots of tomatoes~. Oh. How I love tomatoes. They’re red and delicious and juicy and healthy. AND RED! The same color as one of the colors on my country’s flag. Oh back to the apartment. Sorry, I chatter a lot and usually tend to stray from the topic. I actually have this very close friend of mine who lives in the same building. His name is Gilbert. He’s German. Actually, he says he’s Prussian but I still don’t understand the difference between German and Prussian as they are one and the same country. Or are they. He lives on the fifth floor. Or is it the fourth floor? I don’t really know what floor since it’s technically the fourth floor but for some reason the floors skipped from 3rd to 5th floor. Kiku, a Japanese who lives on the second floor, same as me, told me that the number 4 was an unlucky number along with 3, and 13, but I really don’t know. Wait, I’m talking about other things again. The apartment has 4 floors with all the occupants. The fifth floor is the home of the owners, an Austro-Hungarian couple. A weird bunch they are. The husband, an Austrian named Roderich Edelstein has that air of nobility and he plays the piano very well too while his wife, Elizabeth Hedevary, or what we call her as Liz or Eliza is a Hungarian with an iron fist to match that of any male’s own. Unbeknownst to everyone, this apartment was created for a certain reason. But that’s not for me to tell now is it? The rest of the rooms are for the occupants. One thing about it is that the occupants are all from different countries. What are the odds, si? There is one from France, my friend Francis the cook with his boyfriend from Great Britain, Arthur Kirkland and their kids Alfred and Matthew who were both adopted from different countries as well. The way those two got together is really interesting and quite the drama. Even I had to admit, their romance was a lot more dramatic than all the Spanish soaps I used to watch back at home, and that was a lot, I tell you. Oh! And there is this very VERY good friend of mine, Lovino!   
  
_Ayayay Lovinito~ mi corazon._ He is a blessing in disguise.   
  
It was a funny scene how the two of us met thought I’ve known he’s been living here since...well since he got here. I know what time he comes home from work and what he does in his free time (which was mostly staring out his balcony window). I’d always wonder about him whenever he’d come out the balcony, I would secretly stare at him from inside my bedroom. He’d always look so beautiful with the hot Italian sun draped all over him in the early mornings as he sipped from his cup and when the moon shone on him, he looked like something out of a painting. Like an angel that had been mistaken for a mere human. He looked so pure and innocent, his eyes shone brighter than the stars. _Sabo, sabo._ I sound like a stalker and that the words I have used to describe him may sound overused and cliche. But the loss of words is only normal of a man who could not use mere words to express his profound beauty. Before I knew it, he was more than just a neighbor. He was my unattainable dream, so close yet so far away. I tried many times to capture his attention. Timing his arrival in the apartment with my guitar playing, I even went so far as to deliberately hide in his room when Arthur came running to me when I could run to just about anyone else’s room. But I had no other option as I was tired of merely watching from my window. Oh, how I recall the time I finally saw him face to face. I lost the words I’ve always wanted to say. He was even more beautiful up close. I’ve heard him talking to Eliza before and I noted how pretty his voice sounded. So manly and yet so gentle with a sort of sadness. When I sat shaking at one corner of his room, I listened to the sweet tone of his English mixed with a touch of Italian. It was like a song of the early morning birds in sweet Sta. Anna. I could’ve sworn I could see the land from where I was born. It was that beautiful. So when we were alone, I could hardly contain myself and jumped from behind. In the many days that were to come, I become fondly attached to him. “I want to hear him talk more.” was what I thought was the reason I remained so close. But my feelings were not so easily deceived as I found myself falling for the young hot-blooded South Italian. He charmed me without even realizing it. His occasional lapses and stutters whenever I called him ‘cute’ and how he’d blow a fuse and turn completely red whenever I called him ‘Lovi.’ Every morning, during work days, I would lie in wait in front of my door to happily greet him with a hug even if I knew he was there to criticize me for the bottle of tomato juice I made for him to bring to the office. I also knew how every time I’d hug him, I’d leave a bit of my fresh-farm scent so he had this bottle of perfume ready if anyone asked him what perfume he was wearing. Sometimes I wish he’d say he was hugged for me, though. Ao that everyone from his workplace knew how much I treasured him and that he wasn’t the distant person everyone thought he was. I noticed this long before that he’d come home alone. Isn’t it normal for a person to be brought home by friends? I thought it was because they had parted somewhere along the way, but when Liz told me the story of how he felt left out by his family, I began to understand what he really wanted. Thus, I had put it upon myself to make him feel that the rest of the world may have rejected him, but I happen to be here ready to be his shoulder. I was there for the friendship. Who knew I would be asking for more?  
  
So when he started to distance himself from me, I thought I had done something wrong. Once, I tried to talk to him, but he quickly turned around and dashed for his bedroom door. Then this other time, I bumped into him coincidentally while talking to Eliza.My face literally lit up with joy. But that quickly fell when he kept talking to Liz but paid absolutely no attention to me. It’s been haunting me for a while and the one person I was sure knew why wouldn’t even tell me. It’s always been this way. Always me being the last one to know, being given the “it’s for your own good” reason. Well, I was done with it.  
  
I’m sick and tired of it. For once, I don’t want to be the Antonio everyone thought I was.   
  
“Hey, Toni! Drink up, man! It’s the eve of the new year and you’re celebrating it with the awesome ME!” Strong arms were around me and the smell of root beer pierced my nostrils. Gilbert the ‘Awesome’ Prussian or so he calls himself, readily handed over to me a full glass of sparkling, bubbling root beer as he laughed at the gags that the other apartment dwellers were doing. He turns to me half panting from all the laughing. “Jeez Toni, what’s with all the gloom? You know I can’t stand gloom.”  
  
 _“Lo siento, amigo.”_ I took glass he had offered me and chugged all the contents in one shot. Once I was done, the others clapped and cheered at my “manly” act. “Hand me the next batch, Gil~! It’s the season to be wasted!”  
  
“Yeah! That’s the spirit! Here have some of this bad boy. This comes all the way from my motherland. Drink up, my friend.” he offers me another glass, and I take it, chugging down more root beer until all I could see was swirling and darkness.


	5. Dance of the Heart: Final Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I-It's finally done! The final chapter of my Spamano fic is done. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to sulk in my emo corner now please //*sniff sniff*// I hate myself for having to do this. ;;___;;_
> 
> _BUT!!!!!!!!_
> 
> _Here's the thing: I've got something in mind. //*cough* sequel *cough*// But I'm not sure if I should go through with it cause I'm very much satisfied with how this ended..oh dear, please excuse me. //*obnoxious nose blowing*// So tell me what you think guys! Comment or message or gimme at least 25 kudos if you think I gotta do what I'm planning._
> 
> _Also, despite me saying I'm happy at how this turned out, I still have much to learn and I can only learn if I receive structured comments about my work. Imagine yourself as my prof and me the lagging student in class. Critique my work as harshly as you can and I will respond to that to the best of my abilities._
> 
>   _To those who have read this far and to those who gave it a try and are thinking of giving my work a try, all the same, you are all beautiful beings. Don't forget that //*wink*// So much love to you all!_
> 
> _I think I've said enough. NOW! Onto the Chapter! <3_  
> -Chien   
> 

“Oi!?” The loud yet muffled squeal of Lovino’s outcry made the others downstairs swivel their heads towards the direction of Lovino’s floor.  
  
“Haha! Man, that Lovino sure can yell! Yeah! Here’s to New Year, Lovino!”  
“Liz, shouldn’t we go check on them?” The Austrian turned to the Hungarian with an obvious look of concern. Elizabeth, who was engrossed in her drink, didn’t seem to mind.  
  
“Leave them alone, Roderich. They’re probably patching things up over there.” she said before taking another sip of her beer. Roderich stared at her in question. What was there to patch about? He thought. His eyes move away from the girl and returned them to the Italian’s floor, deciding whether to go up there or not when a heavy tug from the Prussian brought him straight to the dance by the town square.  
  
Back inside the apartment, the hallways and rooms were empty except for the two misplaced gentlemen on floor 2. “Dammit, Tonio. Have you forgotten how heavy you are?” he grunts. “This would be so much easier if you had just moved your damn garden in the ACTUAL garden.” More grunting sounds escaped the young man’s lips as he moved the Spaniard towards the end of the hallways, continuously mumbling at how the Spaniard always caused trouble for him.  
  
The gap between their rooms had widened a little bit over the past year due to a few malfunctioning wires and drainage pipes in Antonio’s room. When the techs came over to check them out, they found field gerbils and a few eggs all over the place. All eyes turned to Antonio’s mini garden out on his balcony. While it was a mystery as to how those creatures had entered the water stream, management had decided to move Antonio to a place insusceptible to any entrance of any other creatures. As a result, the once 'two-room gap' between the two widened to an 'end of the hallway' gap and the techs changed the course of the water pipes so the water flowing to the different rooms wouldn’t have a trace of the foreign creatures. The garden stayed as it was impossible to move all that dirt to so Antonio would still be around the old room to tend to his _‘piccolovini’_ or “little Lovino’s. Lovino blew a fuse after finding out why he called them that way until he just got used to the idea of round juicy red tomatoes being named after him and (in Italian no less).  
  
They reached Antonio’s room and Lovino started feeling the former’s pockets for his room keys. When he realized it wasn’t in any of his pockets, he decided to go upstairs and grab the spare keys from the administrator’s office but stops when he sees a faint light coming from the small crack between the door and the door frame. Lovino sighed at the usual blunder of Antonio forgetting to even close the door of his own room. He pushed the door open and moved the heavy Spaniard safely inside before closing the door behind him. He grumbled first in complete disbelief at the Spaniard’s weird taste for interior decoration then shakes his head and tells himself to think about the incapacitated Spaniard at his feet.  
  
The layout of the apartment rooms were all relatively the same for every room so it didn’t take long for Lovino to locate the bedroom where he literally just threw the Spaniard in. Even that didn’t get him to wake up. Lovino then set to prepare the things to clean Antonio up. Despite being the blunderhead he always was, he seemed prepared for emergency cases like this, which of course made it easier for Lovino to get everything done.1 While in the middle of making soup, footsteps were heard coming from the bedroom which meant the Spaniard had roused from his sleep.  
  
“Don’t come near me, bastard. I might burn you or something.” he said, not looking up from the pot of bubbling soup.  
“Is that my Lovi?” Antonio replied in a dazed tone. “Is this a dream? Lovi’s cooking for me, I’m so happy~!” Without a sound, arms engulfed the Italian from behind. Lovino paid it no heed and continued silently stirring the bright red soup. Antonio’s face fell. He held the shorter man tighter and buried his face on one of his shoulders. “Hey Lovi. Talk to me.” he said in tone already inaudible.  
  
Silence.  
  
“Scold me. Be annoyed with me.” the gurgling of the liquid was all he heard in return. “Please don’t be mad at me.” Antonio’s voice was quivering now. “I won’t leave tomato juice whenever I want. I’ll ask you first. I don’t like you not talking to me, Lovi. Not you.”  
  
Lovino remained indifferent to the taller man. This Antonio felt and slowly let him go. Lovino, after a few seconds, broke the silence by telling him to go grab a seat. Antonio humbly obeyed. After a while, Lovino joined him at the table with a tray of steaming hot tomato soup and a cup of brewed coffee.  
  
“It’s hot. You might burn your tongue so blow, okay?”  
_“S-si.”_  
  
Lovino hung his head and said nothing. All that was heard between them was the flow of water from the faucet and the clanking of plates and stainless steel. He took off the apron and proceeded to leave the Spaniard’s room.  
  
“Get more sleep okay?” he said without making eye contact with Antonio. “I’ll take a picture of the fireworks or something if that’ll make you happy. See you around, bastard.”  
  
He had already gotten a hold of the knob when another hand was on top of his. “O-Oi...” his voice quivered to a point where it was a miracle he had gotten those words out of him. Antonio’s other hand kept the door in place by pushing it outwards, making it impossible for the Italian to open the door. “What do you think you’re doing, bastard?” Lovino tried to push the Spaniard back, but it was no use. It was like the Spaniard had latched his whole weight upon the door.  
  
“Won’t you stay, Lovi? It’s so lonely being alone on New Year’s Eve.” Antonio whimpered in a tone as if he was begging. He lowered his hands to his sides and shut his eyes while we stood in wait for the sound of the door opening and shutting at his face, forever separating him from the Italian. “I’m sorry. Don’t mind it. You can go. H-Happy...New Year.”  
  
_This isn’t going too well for me, Lovi. Leave before you see the un-Antonio side of me._  
  
“What is this, bastard?” Lovino said in a small tone, his eyes looking down at his feet.  
  
Antonio hesitantly raised a hand and held him by the chin, lifting Lovino’s gaze back to him.“Look at me, Lovi. You’re so cute when you’re shy.” he brought his hands to Lovino’s cheek and caressed it. One of his fingers hovered under his eye. “You have such beautiful eyes, _mi amor."_  
  
“Stop calling me that.” the heat from Antonio’s touch was unbearable despite the sharp cold of December.  
  
He rested his head on the shorter man’s shoulder.“You’re not struggling anymore, Lovi. I’m glad.” _I’m glad you stayed._  
“Shut up.”  
“Hey, can we stay like this for a bit?”  
“Can’t we at least sit on the couch? I had to carry you all the way here.”  
“You could have just brought me to your room.”  
“Shut up. I panicked.”  
Antonio chuckled. “Okay let’s sit on the couch.”  
  
Without letting go of his hand, Antonio went into the kitchen and took out a wine bottle. Lovino stared at the Spaniard who was clumsily cutting the cheese with only one hand. He breathed a deep sigh. “Let me go.”  
  
“What? But you said...!”  
“I won’t run away. So cut the cheese with both hands, will you? I’ll pour the wine for us.”  
Antonio looked at him, conflicted at what to do. “You promise you won’t run away?”  
“I promise.”  
  
Antonio let him go in surrender. Only after his hand was released did he realize how tight Antonio had held him.  
  
“Lovi?”  
He snapped out of his reverie and came into contact with those dazzling emerald eyes. “Right. The wine.” he moved to the cupboard and grabbed the nearest wine glasses he could find. While he worked, he could feel the Spaniard’s eyes follow him making him red to the tip of his ears.  
“...you’re not leaving?”  
“Do you want me to?” He had meant it as a joke but at this, Antonio was quick to grab him again, making Lovino nearly spill the wine over the counter.  
  
“Oh what the--”  
“Please don’t! Don’t go Lovi!”  
  
All desire to tell off the Spaniard vanished just like that. He relaxed in the hold then patted the other's arms. “Relax, bastard. I won’t. Now get back to the cheese. Go on.”  
  
“O-okay. _Gracias_ , Lovi.” he said with a smile. Lovino tried to return it with even just the sliver of a smile, but for some reason, it just wouldn’t come to him. He just went back to preparing.  
  
After getting their snacks ready, they moved the couch to a spot near the window to an angle that would give them the best view of the fireworks then they sat in silence while ‘cuddling’ which was just Lovino wrapped around one arm of Antonio as they sipped from the wine and cheese.  
  
Lights played outside the window and the loud boom of the speakers was loud enough to break the windows. However, the silence that enveloped the room was more than enough to drown out the sounds from the outside. One could just hear everything as an individual sound. The giggles of the children, beeping horns and obnoxious singing. The sound of two heartbeats; they all came together as if one melody to create the perfect New Year orchestra. It wasn’t all as muddled as it used to be compared to the time when Lovino would be alone in his own room, mulling over whether he should go visit the family then deciding to leave it for another year when he was brave enough to face them. Back then, it was a chaotic silence. Silent, yes, but very chaotic, as if the voices in his head would break the silence every now and then, causing him to retreat further into a world he thought would keep him away from it. When it started, he could not tell. Looking back, it was most probably the reason why he ran away or at least he thought it would end if he ran away.  
  
But we can never run away from the silence that devours us all. Pushing it aside seemed like a more viable option but running? Futile.  
  
The sudden movement of Antonio caused him to return to the real world. He looked at the Spaniard whose face was painted with a huge grin directed at him. “Wh-what the hell are you looking at, _bastardo?_ ”  
Antonio huffed. “Nothing.” He held Lovino closer and rested his head on the smaller man. “I just thought I’d finally gotten to you.”  
  
“The fuck is that?”  
“D’awww. Don’t say that, Lovi. I had to go through great pains just to have you like this. Don’t ruin the moment for me.”  
  
Lovino smirked. “Yeah okay. Whatever.” he said then returned to looking outside the window where he could see the others still out drinking at the far left, just a few steps away from the doorstep. He took his glass and took a sip.  
  
“They’re having fun, why did you---”  
“ _Lo siento, mi amor._ ”  
“What’s this now?”  
“You’ve heard something you should not have.”  
  
It didn’t take him long to realize what he was talking about. Lovino wisely said nothing and continued sipping from his wine glass and munching on a few cheese bits.  
  
“Liz told me to explain to you. But now I don’t know how to start. Funny, even though I had always been the talkative one between the two of us, suddenly I’m the one at a loss for words.” Antonio gave out a small huff.  
  
For someone Lovino had always seen as an easy-going person and seemed not to have a single care in the world, to see this side of Antonio in the quiet boom of the night, it seemed like he neither knew this person or was simply floating in a dream. Lovino still wouldn’t say anything, so Antonio continued.  
  
“I’ve been dreading that call, you know. I knew it would come, and it wouldn’t come at a moment’s notice. And when it would, I’d have readied my bags and left. Even before a second call could come in. Sorry, the air got a little heavier. Say something, Lovi. The usual.”  
  
“You’re making me sound like the bad guy here.” Lovi said sulkily. Antonio chuckled at the response.  
  
“ _Au contraire, mi amor._ ”  
“Only a cold-hearted beast would put Spanish and French in one sentence.”  
“Then warm me up, Lovi?”  
“Continue already.”  
“Alright. Now where was I? Oh yes.” he held the Italian closer and buried his cheek in the brown ruffled hair of the smaller man then sighed. “Things don’t always go as planned for me. I was supposed to run my family. I was to marry big-chested Ukrainian. Or was she Belgian? I saw her picture you know. Blondie. Your type, Lovi. I’d like you to meet her someday. Anyway, things were supposed to go that way. Then I’d hold the vineyard in the palm of my hands. Have healthy kids. And die with a heck load of money in the bank, I could feed the world’s homeless and even build a home for each one. However, aside from feeding the homeless, I wanted none of that. So I ran. I moved from place to place, and every time I was found I’d run again. Until I came here. Luckily, Liz was someone I knew from childhood and had been closer to her than anyone in my family. So she offered to put me up here and with Roderich, she created this homely place. Hey Lovi, ask me what Liz was to me.”  
  
“What was she to you?”  
“A childhood friend. A supposed fiancee who, like me, had enough of that scene and ran. But unlike me, she was brave enough to stand against what was expected of her. And she just vanished from their lives. Roderich was someone she was seeing at the time. But things got a little weird. But that’s a different story altogether.”  
  
“Well, this explains a lot.” Lovino had had a third glass and was starting to feel drowsy. His head tilted a bit to the side and Antonio had caught it. “Sorry. Keep going.”  
  
“Just a little bit more, _mi amor."_ he gave him a mischievious wink before continuing. "Well, she said I could hang here for a bit and she made sure to keep my family’s dogs away from me. Can you believe it? Even after renouncing her family, she kept hold of the benefits it gave her and used it to hide me. It’s been going on for the past 3? 4? It’s been so long, I can hardly tell anymore. But the same condition couldn’t stay for too long could it? And I knew I had to leave sooner or later so I made it a pact to myself never to involve myself in things that would keep me from leaving. Like, maybe...” he slid a hand to Lovino’s chin and with great care locked their eyes together. Antonio gently smiled, his emerald eyes filled with the same sadness Lovino always heard from his playing that cold November night. “...falling in love with someone.”  
  
Lovino’s cheeks reddened all the way to the tip of his ears. Antonio gave a small laugh as he pushed some hair away from the Italian’s amber eyes. “I miscalculated Lovi when I saw you coming home from work one day. You know those Spanish soaps with all the ‘I should have stayed away’ kind of plot? I thought it would never happen in real life because really, what connection does reality have with something out of the imagination? So when you opened your door to me that day, something imagined had become real. You were always something out of a painting for me, Lovi. Even when you felt like nobody wanted you, it took all my willpower to keep me from pushing you down and taking you then and there.”  
  
While he talked, Antonio cupped Lovino’s face with his free hand ever so gently, caressing the sides of his face every now and then as if to leave a mark of his touch on the Italian as well as impart on himself the feel of what it was like to hold his face. “Eyes are the mirror to our souls, right Lovi? But for me, it was like and endless guesswork of what you saw with these eyes. I wanted you to see me, but I didn’t want you to see all of what made me. Otherwise, I...”  
  
Antonio’s hands fell to the couch, their eyes no longer in contact. Lovino squirmed in his seat at the sudden loss of contact, as if he had grown accustomed to the touch. He gazed at Antonio drinking from his glass, eyes glowing with a different light. “...Otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to leave me?”  
  
Antonio turned to him slowly, the look in his eyes making the answer ever so clear. For the first time that night, in the darkness that surrounded them, Lovino truly saw him as what he had always tried to hide: Defenseless, unsure, and afraid. Who was this Antonio in front of him? Hey tomato bastard, don’t give me that look, he thought. What’s with all the drama? I bet you’re gonna go all ‘Got you again, Lovi~! Now let’s drink the night away!’ You’re not the helpless one here. I am. Unconsciously, Lovino raised his hand, touching the Spaniard’s left cheek. Antonio held Lovino’s hand and buried himself into it, kissing the palm in short intervals.  
  
“ _Te amo, mi Lovinito. Mi amor. Mi corazon. Te amo._ ” He was silently crying and yet the smile he always wore never left his face. Lovino held his head in the palm of his hands and moved closer, pressing their foreheads together. “ _Idiota._ This night was supposed to be fun.”  
  
“You saw what was coming, don’t lie.”  
“Can’t say I couldn’t.”  
“See?”  
  
Silence followed but not one broke the hold, like each other needed the sensation of another human being. “Listen, you’re not wrong for wanting to leave so go.”  
  
“But...! Antonio’s head jerked upwards.  
“I’m not leaving. I promised you, didn’t I? Italians, we keep our promises. That’s why...”  
  
Lovino gently caressed the Spaniard’s face. As how Antonio had moved a few hair strands from his eyes, Lovino did too to reveal the beautiful emerald green eyes. On impulse, Lovino slowly brought his lips towards the Spaniard’s, locking them both in a kiss. When the Spaniard returned the kiss, it wasn’t forceful or anything, Lovino thought. It was rather gentle, childish if he were to describe it. There was no tongue, no biting. Nothing. Just that, it was a little sad, like a child feeling love for the first time as if he had been deprived of it all his life but was now sharing a sort of love he never knew he had exactly because. Little by little, Lovino melted into it. He closed his eyes to the world and felt his arms wound themselves around the Spaniard’s neck. The faint bittersweet taste of the soup was still there along with the lingering aftertaste of what was supposedly alcohol. The strong scent of earth enveloped them both. Antonio broke the kiss, heavily breathing and in need for air. Their eyes are on each other, lust growing steadily in them. Lovino broke the eye contact and looked away, his ears red to the tips.  
  
“Damn it, Lovi. This makes it even harder to leave.” the Spanish said in between breaths.  
“Show me, Antonio. What do you see with your eyes?”  
“Are you sure?” Antonio’s thumb hovers over the Italian’s bottom lip.  
“Yes.”  
  
Outside, the fireworks had begun to fly to the air, coloring the night sky. People yelled with glee, horns honked even louder and beer mugs clanked with one another.  
Lovino and Antonio remained inside the apartment, with each other, letting the wine do its work.  
  
The next morning, the sun was out to greet the first day of the New Year. Lovino opened his eyes to familiar surroundings. It must’ve have been 10 in the morning from the feel of the heat of the sun shining on him. He looked around. It was his room. It was the same bed. It was the same window and view he looked out from every day. Next to him, on his nightstand was a tray with a single glass bottle of red liquid, flashing as bright as a ruby in the late morning light.  
  
He took it from the tray held it in his hands just as tears started dripping onto the transparent glass. He held it close to him, quivering as if to contain the sudden overflow of emotion.  
  
No, it just wasn’t the same anymore. Nothing would be.  
  
Alone in a room he was not supposed to be in, he shed his first New Year’s tears while calling out a name that seemed to come from a distant past.  
  
  
  
_Your face_  
_Lovely as the rose in your hair_  
_The passion in your eyes_  
_Fills me with the songs of love_  
  
_So tell me when will I know._  
_How can you tell?_  
_When love is near_  
_For I love you so_  
_Un baile del corazon._


	6. Just an Appreciative Rant

_Much as I hate for it to end this way, it has to. I fear that the story would not be the same if it ended on a different note. Not to mention the song,_ Un Baile del Corazon _from which this fic was born, was originally meant to be a sad song , therefore this is for the best. And whether I believe it or not, this is the first time I_ _’_ _ve subconsciously wanted a fic to end in a sad way (Curse Freud_ _’_ _s psychoanalytic ways). Anyway, I_ _’_ _ve decided NOT to continue with the sequel of the fic since, like I've said, I'm pretty much satisfied at the way this turned out ~~(even if I cruelly separated the babies //cries//) I~~_ _’_ _d explained everything in this fic and elaborating would make it seem like I_ _’_ _m a broken record._

_However!!!!!!_

_My laptop will not rest for I have a lineup of ship-fics from every one of my fandoms. <3_

_Next, since I_ _’_ _ve finished an academic year in college and will be starting the next year soon, I_ _’_ _m planning to have another chaptered fic. This time a crossover between a famous Greek (Or was it Roman) play and Hetalia (of course). //*insert drumroll*// It_ _’_ _s a DenNor! Just because. <3 I_ _’_ _m not sure if you guys are familiar with it tho, but I_ _’_ _ll give y'all  a sort of overview._

_It_ _’_ _s basically incestuous wherein the Step-mom_ _‘_ _kiss kiss falls in love_ _’_ _with the dense, women-hating Stepson. Step-mom advances, Stepson doesn_ _’_ _t fall for it, so Step-mom tells Hubby, father of Stepson that she was raped by said Stepson (although it_ _’_ _s not true) just because the latter didn_ _’_ _t fall for her seduction. Hubby orders the execution of son and when Step-mom found out that Stepson was dead, she told the truth and out of anger and guilt, Hubby orders her execution as well. The end._

_...Lemme take a breather. That is some heavy shit right there._

_Anyway. I_ _’_ _m gonna be doing that, but not exactly that. Something like a parody? The end and start_ _’_ _ll be the same tho (What_ _’_ _s with all the grim and morbid endings??) I_ _’_ _ll put in the lines in the play, word for word (But don_ _’_ _t worry, citations will be written as footnotes ^v^)_

_As for the fic, I will be forever grateful to those who took the time to read it, even just a portion of it. Even more appreciation for those who went the extra mile to write me a fab comment. To all the kudos guys, so much love~ My heart is so full of gratitude for all the readers. I hope, one way or another, I have delivered what I have set out to do with what I write, no matter how inexperienced I am at this. I have much to learn so I hope you all will stick around as I work on my skills //bows//. I try my best to critique my own work so I ask that you all do too as well. <3. See you guys soon in my next fic! -Chien_

_P.S. I read somewhere that the word_ _‘_ _actually_ _’_ _must be avoided when writing or speaking. You learn something new everyday huh? HIHI_


	7. Appreciation Rant!!!

Much as I hate for it to end this way, it has to. I fear that the story would not be the same if it ended on a different note. Not to mention the song, Un Baile del Corazon from which this fic was born, was originally meant to be a sad song , therefore this is for the best. And whether I believe it or not, this is the first time I’ve subconsciously wanted a fic to end in a sad way (Curse Freud’s psychoanalytic ways). Anyway, I’ve decided not to continue with the sequel of the fic. I probably would but like an AU of the AU I made (So like, AU-ception). I’d explained everything in this fic and elaborating would make me a broken record

However!!!!!!

My laptop will not rest for I have a lineup of ship-fics from every one of my fandoms. <3

Next, since I’ve finished an academic year in college and will be starting the next year soon, I’m planning to have another chaptered fic. This time a crossover between a famous Greek (Or was it Roman) play and Hetalia (of course). //*insert drumroll*// It’s a DenNor! Just because. <3 I’m not sure if you guys are familiar with it tho, but I’ll give you a sort of overview. 

It’s basically incestuous wherein the Step-mom ‘kiss kiss falls in love’ with the dense, women-hating Stepson. Step-mom advances, Stepson doesn’t fall for it, and Step-mom tells Hubby, father of Stepson that she was raped by said Stepson (although it’s not true) just because the latter didn’t fall for her seduction. Hubby orders the execution of son and when Step-mom found out that Stepson was dead, she told the truth and out of anger and guilt, Hubby orders her execution as well. The end.

...Lemme take a breather. That is some heavy shit right there. 

Anyway. I’m gonna be doing that, but not exactly that. Something like a parody? The end and start’ll be the same tho (What’s with all the grim and morbid endings??) I’ll put in the lines in the play, word for word (But don’t worry, citations will be written as footnotes ^v^) 

As for the fic, I will be forever grateful to those who took the time to read it, even just a portion of it. Even more appreciation for those who went the extra mile to write me a fab comment. To all the kudos guys, so much love~ <3\. See you guys soon in my next fic! -Chien

P.S. I read somewhere that the word ‘actually’ must be avoided when writing or speaking. You learn something new everyday huh? HIHI


End file.
